


Caught You Boy

by BaddieBabyGrrl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Courting Rituals, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gangsters, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Kinky Bucky Barnes, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Luxury Lifestyle, Marvel Universe, Minor Original Character(s), Mob Ties, Original Character(s), Plot, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Princess reader, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rating: M, S&M, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Substance Abuse, Top Bucky Barnes, Traditions, Virgin Reader, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, classy, heiress reader, reader has an eating disorder, spoiled reader, theyre not dumb ocs they just make the story work, upper echelon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23724820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaddieBabyGrrl/pseuds/BaddieBabyGrrl
Summary: Reader is the heiress of an incredibly wealthy family. She was born to be refined and classy. Though she glitters with diamonds, her tears every night shine brighter with how hopeless she feels within her own existence. Yearning for experience outside of her contained lifestyle, she knows her only escape is marriage. The drab but wealthy suitors that flood her father with requests for her time could just perpetuate her misery.Until one fateful encounter.....
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Almost just like a shortened romance novel :) enjoy

* * *

You were a prisoner, dripping in diamonds. 

This life as the only daughter of an upper-echelon bookmaker with ties in the mob kept you captive since birth. Your family name, Maraschino, destined you for such a life. The expansive mansion and its built-in movie theatre, bowling alley, and stretching gardens could only do so much for your yearning heart, soul, and mind. 

Father wasn’t one for much conversation, and your mother was entirely estranged. 

“ _She was an unimpressive whore, my greatest mistake, but somehow she managed to create my greatest achievement,” he would claim, smiling and motioning to you._

It didn’t really make you feel any better, but buying maternal advice and comfort was a temporary fix. So he brought Marianne, _aka Emmy_ , on to be your personal servant. A bumbling middle-aged woman from Vietnam who absolutely adored you. _Regardless of the money, you hoped._

But you also wondered where the connections came from to get her here. Life over there certainly wasn’t easy, and almost impossible to escape. You knew this from all of the intensive private tutoring you received being homeschooled. 

Your worldly view was expansive though you hardly left the tens of thousands of square acres you called home. Better not to question such matters though, you were grateful for her all the same.

Book smarts and social intelligence were your major strong points. The purpose for you being to entertain at the extravagant parties your father was fond of throwing. You were raised with class and dignity for the ultimate end goal of marrying into an elite family. 

You prayed your future spouse would at least be slightly more interesting than these stiff bureaucrats you mainly encountered. Being such a stunning young woman at only nineteen made prospects flood your father’s mail with growing intensity. 

All you wanted at the end of the day was a man of dignity who would gave through your soul and see ultimately that it was good, and base his love there. 

You also fiercely loved your Marianne and her coddling. Though you weren’t four anymore like when she first came into your life, she had your best interest in mind twenty-four seven. 

You loved so strongly, and you worried about giving it away to the wrong sources. 

“Lovely, where are you?” Marianne called from an adjoined room, snapping you out of a light daydream. You hopped down from a rectangular brick planter connected to your balcony and made your way inside. 

She had cut fruit and placed the tray on the table for you. You loved her little acts of affection, she certainly didn’t have to take the effort. “Thank you Emmy! Just what I needed,” you smiled brightly at her and popped a small apple chunk in your mouth. Marianne reached into her slip dress pocket and pulled out her small notebook she often liked to take note in.

“Oh hon, I know you hate these reminders, but the senator’s ball is coming quickly! Just two days,” she remarked. You grimaced, _Shit, it’s Thursday,_ you thought. 

“Thank you for letting me know again Em, I had forgotten…” you trailed off.

“There is something troubling you girl , tell me please what is the matter?” she insightfully inquired, putting away her book. 

There was definitely quite a few things wrong. You felt as if the burden should remain on your own shoulders, but Marianne was not easily dissuaded when you were down. 

“Emmy I need to restrict my diet for the next few days, more so than usual. Maybe you could help m-“

“Hon you are all legs! Stop eating any more and you will be just bones. I worry very much,” she cut you off. You hung your head and a small jaded smile tugged at your lips. You’d been through this before with her. 

Not looking up you said, “You know I have obligations…”

She sighed desperately. Glancing up, you saw a weary Marianne looking at you with knowing eyes. There were some things better left unsaid about what was expected of you. The most important voice being your father’s. She turned her head away towards the door, “ Lovely I’ll be in the big kitchen, you come get me if you need anything.”

Solemnly, she walked out to resume her cleaning of one portion of the home. Eyes trailing her, you knew what you said bothered her. You felt a pit in your chest. Exhaling, you looked again at the tray, now less abundant due to your snacking. It was only assorted fruit luckily.

_Damn,_ you thought.

You considered asking your father for liposuction, but you knew you would just end up revealing to him some issues better left buried. You were a size four, only because of your hips and ass. Your waist was little, which anyone could observe from a first glance. Your legs were proportionally long for five foot six inches. The worst part to you was your boobs, as they almost didn't fit your frame due to their size. You were only 125 lbs soaking wet.

Curling up in the covers of your bed, you were truly trapped in your head. The evening light pooled into your room. Looking out the window it was easy to see the city skyline miles away.

Thinking lightly, you wished you knew what your mom looked like. What was the other half of the blood that ran through your veins? And your genetics. Though, answers were sometimes not in the cards, as you knew all too well.

Under the covers, you traced your fingers along the grooves your hip bones made poking against your skin. Pressing your lips together hard, tears started to well, and before you really knew it you were sobbing.

For every breakdown, there is one successful social event.

* * *


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glamorous night for a first encounter.

* * *

_God, it’s so fucking loud,_ you thought behind a Colgate-white smile. 

Despite the demons clouding your self esteem, you had the room focused on you. 

Whether they were attempting to make eye contact with you, or shy glances away from their date, you felt the hundreds of affixed minds.

It nearly suffocated you.

These events were the only times in your life that Marianne couldn’t accompany you. 

It fucking sucked. 

Instead of her, your two Serbian bodyguards, Lud and Arny, stuck themselves to your sides for the evening until you returned home. They were standard live-in security at your home and occasionally your friends. At least you thought so, because you got them to watch movies with you on their rotations off the clock. 

They didn’t really speak much, and when they did it was either in their native tongue or broken English. Again, you wondered why these hulking men worked specifically for your father. What was the connection?

Your smile never faltered though your thoughts were a million miles away.

The middle-aged to elderly politicians at this event were sure to take their opportunity to shake and kiss your well manicured hand. Your nails glimmered and reflected the numerous chandeliers. Always polite, this was second nature to you. One could say you were bred and brought up to perfection.

“Oh my lord! Look at you,” Senator Marosco remarked, taking your hand in his. “I swear I don’t just invite your dad just because he makes football season a lucrative hobby,” he chortled.

“You’re too kind Senator, I’m flattered to receive the privileged opportunity to be here,” you gushed, taking your hand back to adjust the diamonds decorating your neck. The senator was sort of a sleaze in your opinion, and you wished you could dart away to the ladies room to get a break.

_No breaks for you, silly._

Your Givenchy dress couldn’t glitter bright enough for the people closest in the ballroom to observe this exchange. Your Louboutins made you taller than the man but you somehow still felt so incredibly small here. 

“Say, my eldest son just turned twenty-five and has been telling me all night ‘Oh father if I could just get the Maraschino girl’s attention’, and, now what kind of father would I be if I didn’t vouch for him and request you meet him?” he grinned.

Your mouth opened to formulate an excuse - _anything -_ but he clucked his tongue and took the liberty of taking your elbow and leading you to the biggest table in the room. One of your bodyguards, Lud, _you thought_ , grunted when he eyed the unwanted contact.

You figured there could be worse fates. Being lead through the grand ballroom by a senator to meet his _hopefully_ refined son wasn’t the worst thing in the whole world. Still annoying, nevertheless. 

There were connections that needed to be made before the night was up that your father briefed/threatened you in the car for.

This wasn’t _particularly_ on the schedule.

Reaching the table, a young man stood up to shake your hand and attempt to charm you.

“My, my, my, what a gal,” his greasy smile put you off, and you figured since he was looking lower than your eyes, this wouldn’t last long.

“Thank you, it’s nice to make your acquaintance. Your name?” you smiled falsely.

“Oh well, my bad, I guess I _should_ introduce myself huh? It’s David, but you can call me Dave. Special privilege for a special girl,” he said with a shit eating grin.

“The flattery, David, thank you…” you looked away wistfully, catching a glance at his dad eating up the whole scene. 

“Baby, hey, come sit with me. Let me get you a drink,” he nearly pleaded, trying to recapture your attention. His eyes were desperately asking his paternal figure to deliver once he got you to sit down.

“Oh I’m sorry David but I just saw my father motion for me to join him, so sorry, we’ll have to catch up soon,” you blurted quickly and started to briskly walk towards the general direction of the table he was at. Lud and Arny turned to keep up with your escape from the younger man.

_cricshsh_

You hesitated and stopped to turn towards the noise, it sounded like something glass shattered pretty close. What first caught your attention upon viewing in that general direction was a camaraderie of formally dressed people standing around what looked like a broken wine glass on the ground.

“Damnit Rogers! That glass of wine cost more than your shoes- Ah, fuck it’s on my pants-“ exclaimed the man in glasses.

_He looks an awful lot like Tony Stark, The Iron Man right?_ you inquired silently.

_Wait. Shit._

This _was_ the senators ball, and as you observed the people around him you realized. 

_Oh fuck, those are The Avengers._

But it shouldn’t have really come as a shock to you since this was such a high profile event, but you had never truly seen them before.

Your eyes were glued on the group as you stood still with two burly men behind you. 

Inquisitively you picked out who you believed to be Captain America, as he was a little bigger than everyone else, The Iron Man of course, and there were a few women too. 

You saw two other men, and as your mind was racing about the group ten yards away, one of the men met your eyes.

You blushed under your makeup, it wasn’t polite to stare and you got caught. 

You looked down quickly and then away, back to where you were truly headed in the first place. You couldn’t help but remember the man’s face who caught you staring. He was darkly handsome with slicked back brown hair and cleaned up scruff. 

Meeting your father back at his table, he seemed quite entirely tired from the evening. You attempted familial intimacy and placed your hand sweetly on his shoulder in support. 

After a few seconds he swatted your hand away, “Enough.”

It felt like someone shot you in the chest. Uncalled for, but no point in contesting him.

“You haven’t even met half of the room, remember what I told you? Sit up straight for fucks sake.”

Without a word you raised from your seat and looked around at the room. You had a pained look in your eyes you were struggling to hide. 

Meeting your gaze with Lud's, you nodded away to motion it was time to continue socializing.

After several dull conversations with numerous governors and a few high rollers, your social battery was starting to drain. 

_Maybe a drink would make things a little better_. You decided to head over to the bar and start nursing a gin and tonic.

You always walked with your guard up at these events due to the almost constant attention, leaving your mind somewhere else in order to focus on your goal.

_A drink._

It was almost too late before you noticed a figure standing directly in your way. You stopped and realized it was the same man with The Avengers that caught you looking earlier.

You met his eyes and started to blush yet again remembering your embarrassment.

Approaching him he held out his hand, “Hey there, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You shook his hand and smiled brightly but nervously. You hoped he didn’t think you needed to lose a few pounds. He had an aura of power about him but there was something else you just couldn’t put your finger on.

“Likewise mister, I couldn’t help but notice the commotion earlier,” you joked, shaking his hand firmly. He then brought your hand halfway and lowered his face to kiss it.  You felt little lightning pricks all over you body. 

Though this little action had happened all night with others, something about _him_ doing it and his rough hand holding yours just felt like pure magic.

He noticed your visible ease after his flirt. “Sorry about the disturbance…What’s your name, doll?” he asked, releasing your hand.

You told him, and a little grin formed on his face while you spoke. 

“You must’ve heard this a thousand times tonight, but you’re absolutely stunning,” he said a littlemore quietly . 

You looked at him sweetly and started fiddling with your tennis bracelet.

“You speak so boldly for having just met me sir, and you haven’t even introduced yourself to me yet,” you poked. He nodded slightly, agreeing.

“I’m James, but call me Bucky, everyone does,” he told you.

“Bucky,” you inquired, “would you possibly be interested in buying a girl a drink?”

His grin widened a little, “ My pleasure doll.”

And he turned towards the bar, eyes still on you, waiting for you to make your way there. 

You were glad he didn’t feel threatened by Lud and Arny, and how he was involved with The Avengers you had yet to inquire.

It was a reasonable bet that he was far tougher than you knew. Just from his energy you almost felt engulfed.

You definitely wanted more.

Your eyes never left his face as you sat on the barstool next to him. He partially leaned on the counter and you noticed his hand was metal. 

You left it alone and confidently figured you’d see him again and ask him later. 

You started to sip your gin and tonic.

He watched you closely, thinking he really needed to be back on his game. He was so rusty, and hadn’t really tried with women in a long time. Not since he and Steve frequented the dancing halls. 

Girls were different now, and he hoped you’d maybe give him a chance.

You took note of his other hand resting on his thigh. The hand that had held yours. You secretly wished you were closer, and that that hand could be on your thigh instead.

Your demons bit at you while you chatted and flirted with him.

You hoped to god he didn’t notice the slight rolls on your stomach while you sat, and that your jawline was sharp enough for his liking.

Now you knew he was a part of The Avengers and he lived with them in a big compound. You joked about how you could relate to living in a compound. 

He was very inquisitive about your background, realizing you weren’t just a run-of-the-mill politician’s daughter. 

He loved your refined nature. The grace you exuded the whole night in your skin-tight dress and illuminating jewelry was almost intoxicating to him. The way you attracted gazes just from the short time he had been with you was a little daunting. He wouldn't admit it though.

You were so different from those girls he would watch on TV in reality shows. And honestly, you were like the girls he knew back in his era, a timeless classic.

The night wound to a close. 

You let Bucky know the only way to reach you was through your father. 

Pressing a stamp of red lipstick onto the back of his flesh hand, you said your goodbye and turned away to vanish in the crowd behind your bodyguards.

He wasn’t going to clean off his hand for a _while_.

* * *


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope blossoms, and a little insight is given.

* * *

A week had passed, but you never left each other’s minds.

You continued on with life, though with far more zest. There was hope in your subconscious, that the handsome gentleman you encountered would go through all of the necessary tasks to receive more of your time.

Marianne noticed the night you came home, when she helped you out of your evening look. You were always her precious little girl. Furthermore, you getting excited over _anything,_ be it big or small, was cause for her own internal celebration.

With everything she had observed through the majority of your lifetime, Marianne knew you were strong. Seeing this change of pace was a joy, and she’d take her chance to pry soon when the moment was right.

The home-bred demons gnawed regardless, letting you know he probably wouldn’t take the initiative to contact due to your ( _nonexistent)_ pudge and bromidic appearance. Anxiety swelled in your chest, like, who were _you_ to desire _an Avenger?_

The average calorie intake making up your days were in the three digits. 

Feeling light-headed, you sipped water constantly and decided a walk to the garden area on the land for fresh air would most likely be beneficial.

You walked barefoot in a white, cotton, house dress through hallways to the main living room area, which had the closest door to the outside gardens. 

Opening the large glass door bordered with elegant African Blackwood, you stepped out and felt the chilled wood under your toes.

Making your way across the large porch and down the steps of the deck, you padded into the floral section of the garden.

You were being filmed of course, and were never truly alone on the property, but the isolation of the quiet outdoors refreshed you.

You approached and started to hear a faint voice.

It turns out you weren’t alone anyways, because in the more covered section of the floral area starting the orchard, your father sat with Lud and Arny around a stone table and chair set.

“Ahhhh, speak of the devil and a woman shall appear. Darling have a seat,” the head Maraschino remarked, not looking up from the folder in front of him.

“Father,” you greeted calmly, lightly sitting on the stone bench across from him.

This wasn't a part of the intended visit to the garden, but perhaps this business could be regarding something pleasant.

“In all of the mail I receive about you, just _begging_ for little more than a first date,” he started, occasionally making eye contact with you, “I thought I had seen just about all there was to see.”

You cocked your head slightly.

“ _Oh Don, my son is the only heir worthy of your daughter, look at our money making genes and prowess, I’ll give you a car in exchange for grand-children Don, please just consider-_ blah blah _fucking_ blah. God, it gets dull constantly reading them blowing smoke up their asses,” he mocked.

“I was doing my _blessed_ fatherly duty, reading your prospect letters aloud to the two knuckle-heads here. Agh, It’s monotonous business, and I try to entertain myself when allotted the time,” he spoke more to himself than you at this point. But you sat and listened all the same. 

This was already the longest casual conversation you had had with him in about two months. 

It was a blessing to hold his attention like this!

“But the main point of this little chat, is that I have received a courting request from someone claiming to be with _The Avengers,”_ he stated, furrowing his brow at the letter he held, “James…. Barnes.”

You gasped slightly, and a giddy feeling erupted all over you, as if you were a pre-teen just invited to a dance by her first love. 

Your father uncharacteristically waited for you to say something, glancing at you.

“Well Father, while we attended the senators ball I did happen to network with such Avenger. And I surely suspect he took a strong liking to me,” you tried to say as casually as possible, starting to fidget with a hang nail under the table, out of his line of sight.

“I see, an Avenger. Well, this _could_ be _positive_ publicity. That lot, loaded with connections and wealth. Three _ticks_ off the list for the hand of my most prized possession. I don't think it would be any harm to allow this boy to visit for a brunch. I expect to meet him first of course. And it will be monitored,” he spoke to himself.

Your eyes were nothing short of twinkling as you attempted to contain your excitement. 

Your smile fought to grow, but emotions were best contained to hide weakness. At least, that’s what you were always led to believe by the man in front of you. Especially in such matters, you _should_ be thinking of this in the same light as business.

You couldn’t help it.

You were _so_ fucking excited, you definitely could’ve screamed.

“I will respond and give a window of my coveted availability. That’s all I needed. But…” he trained his eyes on you, “ You're looking a detestable shade of sickly pale. I’d appreciate it if you'd utilize the tanning bed I had specifically installed in the third auxiliary room for you. Maybe it’d help you tone up a little. I can assure you this gentleman will turn his ass in the opposite direction and walk out if he catches one look of you in this current state.”

You smiled in trained instinct to show false gratitude, “Thank you Father.”

Getting up to leave, you turned and started to walk quickly back the way you came.

The bittersweet emotions churning from that last encounter chose to reside in your chest.

On one hand, you marveled at how long your father let you be in his presence to chat for, and the fact that you had a brunch planned with the man _of your dreams_. Maybe it was a little early to say that? You weren’t sure and didn't want to think too much about such intricacies. 

On the other hand, you _did_ look absolutely ghastly and believed he was right in this case.

Your thin frame was swallowed by your cotton dress.

The reality was that you needed to eat.

It was too hard to see that at that moment.

-

For most of his week, Bucky had been toiling over writing the perfect letter to send to the Maraschino residence.

He’d spent the better of his conscious life taking down the most terrifying threats known to man, why was this so damn nerve-wracking?

Stressing about each little word, he hoped he could make the best impression possible.

He even asked Steve for help, who promptly laughed at him in good nature over his predicament.

Once it had been refined to his liking and copied in the best penmanship he could muster, he figured the fastest way to get it to you was to deliver it to the mailbox himself, that day. 

After properly snooping using intelligence ( _not meant for such trivial tasks_ ) to find out where you lived, he audibly voiced the one word that popped into his head after getting an outside view of the mansion.

“ _Fuck.”_

You really weren’t kidding when you joked with him about living in a compound. Your wealth was unimaginable. He just hoped your father was a reasonable man. Perhaps it wasn’t so reasonable to let a real-life ‘superhero’ date your little girl though.

He cursed again.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t usually a praying man, but in that moment he had a quick word with a higher power to hopefully allow his wishes to come to fruition. 

Just thinking about that fateful night again, he grinned wistfully. 

Bucky hadn’t even wanted to attend the ball with everyone else. 

He had been in a bad mood that day in general, as the mission the days before had gone completely sour. Hydra was a cunt he wanted to make his bitch, and nothing was worse than them escaping with their disgusting lives.

You really can’t win them all though, and he knew this.

Steve, Natasha, and Tony had been particularly up his ass about attending regardless. And Steve did just about everything but dress him for that night.

Like a stubborn child, he huffed and got in the limo that pulled up to take the group.

Once there, he already knew he was out of his element. Saving public face wasn’t his forte with this whole Avengers business. 

But the senator _was_ Tony’s friend after all.

After surveying the room as much as he could, Bucky concluded that his tight-nit group was the only interaction he really needed. It was so damn loud, and he hated how it dulled his senses.

Something glinted in his periphery, and he snapped his head in that direction.

What he saw he practically drank in.

A woman, in a glittering cream dress, had made her way inside the ball room accompanied by two men far bigger than her at her sides. 

They looked eastern European to him, a look he was familiar with.

Upon this entrance, she was nothing but smiles and met immediately by several older men taking and kissing her hand.

Her poise, and the elegance she exuded hit Bucky like a shot of rum.

He decided tonight wouldn’t be so bad if he kept a close eye on her.

Steve took notice of Bucky’s distracted state, as he kept brushing off all casual conversation made by his associates. 

“What are you so focused on, Buck?” Steve poked, following his gaze successfully.

“None of your damn business at the moment,” Bucky responded lowly, watching her be led by a shorter man across the room.

He observed a short but uncomfortable conversation between her and a younger male that could reasonably be the man’s son. She turned away and started to almost come closer.

Steve had been watching Bucky, and just like old times, he was going to wingman once again.

Turning to Tony who was lightly chatting with Pepper, Steve pretended to trip over his own feet and clumsily swatted the wine glass out of Tony’s hand.

“Damnit Rogers! That glass of wine cost more than your shoes- Ah, fuck it’s on my pants-“ Tony exclaimed. Steve mimicked an apology for his lack of awareness. The group had circled around the mess. 

Though he noticed the commotion, Bucky was on an entirely different planet.

The woman, at the sound of the breaking glass, had turned towards the group and stopped promptly. 

The two met eyes.

Bucky’s heart fluttered uncharacteristically.

The woman’s gaze slightly widened, and unbeknownst to Bucky, her heart rate matched his.

He knew he had to meet her.

Slightly tailing her after she moved towards her original destination again, he kept an appropriate distance as she reached a table. Steve glanced and saw him slip away. He smiled to himself

Bucky watched the woman’s hand be lightly but deliberately hit away. She had a striking resemblance to the man she was interacting with. He was far older than her so Bucky assumed him to be her father.

Her father didn’t seem pleased with her at all. She was visibly stiffening with every word that launched out of his mouth.

Bucky grew tense. He hadn’t even met her, but it just didn’t seem right that she be berated for seemingly nothing at all.

As she moved away, Bucky took his chance and stuck himself in her line of movement.

As he blocked the path, your fates intertwined.

He didn’t know that you’d be _exactly_ what he was looking for.

Snapping back into his current reality, he realized this was around the tenth time he had thought through that night since it happened.

He had to deliver that damn letter.

* * *


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date.

* * *

Frazzled and nearly defeated, you fell back onto your bed.

The room was in a disastrous state, covered in an array of dresses and shoes that in all cost more than tuition at NYU.

Just _what_ were you going to wear for tomorrow?

It had to be something light, flirty, and fun. After all, it was only brunch.

_No evening gowns allowed!_

But it just so happened that the majority of your wardrobe was evening attire and you were legitimately about to throw a fit.

Not a second too soon, Marianne walked in, but started to quickly jog as she viewed your flustered state.

“What is the matter darling?” she sighed, attempting to collect the shoes off of the ground to put them back in their proper places within your walk-in closet.

“Emmy I can’t do this, none of this Balmain or Dior or whatever the fuck is good enough for the brunch tomorrow. He’s gonna see right through me and only notice my flabs and various flaws and this is _hopeless_ and, and, he’s gonna hate m-m-me,” you started to cry.

Marianne rushed to your side and took your head in her arms to try to calm you down. She hated seeing you fret over such things. Insightfully she knew you just didn’t want to ruin something that filled you with unadulterated joy. 

This was a possibility of a brighter future for you, she felt, and picking out an outfit honestly should not be the biggest of your worries. Seeing how happy you had been made her want to help continue your state of elation by any means.

After calming you down and making you sip water, she was determined to get you to agree on the perfect outfit.

With another person’s help it truly didn’t take that long, and you realized you had _definitely_ exasperated the situation a bit. 

But, no harm no foul, _right_?

You spent your allotted free time on another walk through the floral garden before dinner.

After your slight breakdown choosing an outfit to present yourself to Bucky in, you chose to spend some time translating a book of short stories from French to English.

Since you were young enough to formulate words, your father made sure you received intense tutoring in both Italian and French. You rather preferred French, because you’d never had to use it with any of his associates, and it was like your own little secret.

Your words and languages were like super powers to you. Super powers you kept to yourself in your study room littered with books and paper. 

With a mind like a tack, you loved puzzles.

The next one you wanted to solve was how to be the girl of Bucky’s dreams.

Walking through the garden, you silently prayed that your father would approve of Bucky and allow him to continue to visit.

But more so you hoped Bucky would _want_ to continue to visit.

Tomorrow was the first ultimate testament to if your lives would continue to mesh.

And _god_ did it wrack your nerves.

You absolutely hated to admit this to anyone, even to Marianne, but you had an illicit cure for when your anxiety flared. 

Your father once said something about the sharpest minds needing a little vice.

You spent time admiring all of the foliage for what it was worth, nature was one of the things your father _thought_ he could control, but in the grand scheme of things, really couldn’t. You wished you weren’t controlled either. 

Wistfully, you stared at the massive rose bushes that covered a good portion of the garden. The childhood you called your own was spent running around them and pricking fingers on the thorns when trying to grab the flowers.

Having finished your evening walk, you headed back up to your room. Tying your hair in a ribbon, you took out a shoebox from the back of your closet and rifled through it to find a pill bottle.

_Bingo._

It’s an involved deal to even get ahold of these, but you thought it was entirely worth it. Such excessive stress was not healthy.

Xanax was one of the few things that kept you sane in captivity.

It was bad, yeah, you knew. But how could you resist when faced with such a crucial day like tomorrow?

Only taking one bar, you shifted your mind to getting ready for bed. You put away the box and turned to browse the sleepwear section of the closet. You loved pajamas, and it was evident in the vast collection residing in the space.

You _hoped_ you could sleep tonight. Certainly didn’t need bags under your eyes on top of everything else.

In your Versace white silk nightgown, life was seemingly all luxury.

Your demons continuously clouded this notion.

_You’d be happy if you lost a few inches off that waist._

You shook your head. There were so many better things to focus on! You had a date with Bucky all planned for tomorrow!

Smiling with ferocity, it had been a little bit since you had taken the bar, and you could feel it. 

_Peace at last._

You were mellowed out entirely. The outfit you and Marianne had picked out laid over a chair across the room.

You figured picking out jewelry could wait for tomorrow.

For now, all that was really worth your time was drinking water and getting partially into bed. You were incredibly lax at the moment.

Gaze shifting to the world beyond your acres, you sighed at the glimmering city skyline in the distance.

Sometimes you just really wanted to run away to the city with no guards, and _no_ connections. Just you walking like a normal city-goer.

Free from the burdens of upper-echelon restrictions and expectations.

You just wanted to _live._ To _breathe._

All in all regardless, you were more than grateful for what you had. Not just anyone gets to be hit on by men making seven figures.

Bucky was different than the usual prospect.

He didn't have any riches to speak of, but what he did have was power.

Raw, unbridled power.

You found it quite exciting.

Maybe it should've been a _little_ scary, but something about him was just so fresh and new. Just from thinking about seeing him made your chest flutter. Your father was only interested in the good publicity for the family name, but you didn’t mind as long as you got to be around Bucky. 

Blinking quickly, you looked down at your bed.

Sleep sounded really, really great.

Forgetting your nerves completely, you got up to brush your teeth and wash your face. 

Staring in the mirror, unbeknownst to you, a beautiful face looked back at you.

You gripped your right shoulder with your left hand.

Definitely time for bed.

-

You awoke at your usual time in the morning, a bright and early seven a.m.

Marianne had called your stylist a few days prior to arrive at eight, so jumping in the shower was imperative to get ready for getting ready.

The brunch was at ten.

_Plenty of time,_ you thought wearily, _fuck._

Being nervous was an understatement.

After your shower, the stylist was ready to have you, and you met her at your vanity. You picked out your jewelry quickly, eager to have your makeup done soon.

If this would have been taken out of context, one would think far differently about what this preparation was for.

No holds barred, you were determined to be at the height of your beauty for Bucky, even if it meant being _slightly_ extra.

It was now nine twenty. Marianne kept trying to reassure you and keep your anxiety levels down while you slipped into the chosen dress and heels.

You couldn’t idle any longer, and made the executive decision to go down and wait ever hopefully.

Taking one final look in the mirror, you said your farewell for the time being to Marianne and the stylist.

As you rounded the stairs, you could hear your fathers voice in the entry way, and then _another voice._

_Bucky._

He was early!

Halfway down the stairs, after not taking your eyes off him for the past minute, you finally locked gazes with him. It was as if the wind was knocked out of your chest.

His eyes widened, and he lost his train of thought speaking to the head Maraschino. Lud and Arny stood stoutly behind your father, watching Bucky intently.

Bucky’s failure to respond led Don Maraschino to follow his eyes to the staircase where you descended.

“Ahh my lovely daughter joining us early, just the woman you're here to see,” Don grinned furtively, “James here has been telling me all about his work, quite interesting might I add, is that he has accomplished so much, in such a short time. You usually don't see these kinds of improbable feats in the average young men of this day and age.”

Pausing, he studies Bucky wistfully, “He reminds me of myself in my youth.”

“Don, I certainly appreciate these compliments, but there’s really no need. A man of your stature far surpasses my-“ Bucky suddenly was cut off by your father’s deep laughter. It rang into the connected hallways.

“Now James if _only_ you just knew. Darling come off of those stairs and join us now,” he wiped his eyes with a plain handkerchief, “I believe brunch is prepared.”

You had watched this short dialogue unfold silently slightly above the bottom few steps of the main stairwell, noting how pleasant it was that Bucky was given the ability to be on a first name basis with your father. 

Little inklings of respect as such would be important if this were to be as successful as you'd hoped.

You walked close to Bucky’s side, and it was as if heat just radiated off of him, because you started to blush hotly under your makeup.

No man had ever broken your coolness like such before.

Making your way into the dining room, the cooks had already prepared and brought out the items ready to be served. 

Don Maraschino took his seat at the head of the large table, and Bucky had followed you around to your side to pull out your seat for you. You smiled gratefully as he pushed you in.

_Fuck,_ you thought, _how amazing!_

You were practically screaming in your head. He was so _close._

No other prospects had ever lit the candle in your heart like this. Bucky honestly thought nothing of the gesture, it was just something he did naturally.

Sitting across from you, Bucky’s heartfelt attention never wavered as you spoke. You were so excited he was here, right in front of you.

At this point, your father was only there to chaperone your first official date. After this, things would loosen up a bit.

You didn’t feel fully comfortable eating in front of people (exception being Marianne) , so you picked at the breakfast served, and spent the majority of the time talking or listening.

Bucky picked up on your behavior, and it honestly worried him a little. He wanted you to be comfortable around him, but you radiated nerves. He didn’t really know why, because to him you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

Talking over subjects like interests and childhood, you wanted these moments to last forever. Bucky made you feel like the most important person in the room, a pleasant change from your father’s overwhelming presence. 

He told you about some of his travels with The Avengers and the languages he spoke. He may not have come across initially as such a worldly man, but you knew now. This was a man that you could relate to. His energy was warm. 

You fought your own fears the whole time to stop being so on edge.

You shared things about yourself as well, it was censored of course in front of your father, but there was still a good deal to say. 

Bucky loved the class of your life, but how down to earth you were as well. Your inherent duality was intriguing to him. 

Bucky watched your little movements and gestures. Your thin frame was mildly expressive, just enough to draw full attention when you were speaking. He found you fascinating, and he too realized that he wished these moments would never end.

Two hours passed of you two chatting and flirting, not much different from the first time you met. Every time he said your name, your stomach fluttered. 

Bucky found himself smiling more in the time with you, than he had in the past two months. You were an elegant light, full of sweetness.

All the while, your father watched the two of you. He was pleased with how cordial and respectful Bucky was. And he noticed as well the Lamborghini that Bucky arrived with. 

( _In reality he borrowed it from Tony._ )

Don Maraschino had made his judgement; James Barnes was a perfect marriage candidate.

Though his business was illegal, the money was well laundered, and his doings would be nowhere near the radar of The Avengers. He believed in keeping his friends close and his enemies closer, regardless. He had come very far in his career, building a nearly impeccable image to those that didn’t understand where his money truly came from.

And _this_ was _good_ publicity. 

You were so grateful your father was not only being nice to Bucky, but to you as well. It was as ifyou were being the perfect golden child he had wanted all along. He could be a real asshole sometimes, but it was _fully_ contained throughout the brunch.

Unfortunately, the meal rounded to a close. You three stood up and prepared to say your goodbyes. 

Meeting at the door, your father ( _and Lud and Arny_ ) was going to escort Bucky out, but not before Bucky encompassed you in a hug.

He was so warm, and his strong forearms wrapped around you filled your heart with utter bliss. One hand was on your lower waist, and the metal one on your upper back. Bucky hugged you like a man starved for touch, as if he’d never get to be this close again.

You let him go with a chaste kiss on his cheek.

It was his turn to blush now.

He reached and took both of yours hands in his.

“Thank you for such a great date, doll,” he admired.

“It was so wonderful to see you again, Bucky,” gently squeezing his hands. You looked up at him in sincerity.

“You’ll hopefully see me again soon.”

You felt something paper slip into your hand.

He turned away to exit with your father.

A slight grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as the door closed behind them. Quickly, you looked at the slip of paper Bucky gave you.

Along with his number, it read…

_To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,_

_why don't you give me a call?_

* * *


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The perks of being very sneaky are apparent :)

* * *

“ _No_ way _!”_ you exclaimed through the phone, laughing.

Bucky returned your laughter, “I’m serious I swear. There wasn’t a left shoe in his closet that weekend. He was so mad, but mostly confused.”

“Did Tony ever find out?” you inquired, still giggling. You kicked your feet up in the air, laying back on the bed, letting your silk hot pink robe fall back and reveal lace panties of a matching color hugging your hips.

This had been a rather lengthy phone call, spilling into the dead of night.

The phone calls between you two had been frequent and lengthy, granted you both weren’t busy or preoccupied. Every waking minute of free time was spent as such.

“Well, we wiped the tapes right? There wasn’t a way to be sure it was as furtive as we wanted it to be, because it was his living quarters. Tony’s got some tricks. But you know, miraculously enough, he never mentioned it could’ve been us. So you better not snitch!” Bucky teased.

“I think you’re going to jail,” you giggled.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you darling?” he threatened playfully.

“I was kidding! But _wow_ you must be super duper sneaky to accomplish _such_ a mission,” you teased back.

“You have no idea. A long while ago I was a spy. Trained and conditioned for stealth. Brainwashed, really,” he murmured with a tinge of sadness.

“Oooh mister secret spy,” you flirted a little boldly, trying to light him up again, “why don’t you come spy and sneak your way into my bedroom?”

“Oh darling don’t tempt me, I could be over there in forty,” the sadness was gone.

Your heart rate started to increase, “Yeah right, silly goose.” 

He couldn’t be serious. It was almost too good to be true, if this was really about to happen. At nineteen, you had _never_ had a boy in your room. Relationships with prospects had never reached that stage, where even remote intimacy was acceptable. 

Your father had made it _disgustingly_ clear that you were to be a virgin for your wedding night. Men of class that desired your hand would _not_ be interested in a promiscuous young woman. Even a _rumor_ of this behavior regarding you would soil your father’s reputation and possibly unleash the worst, unbridled, anger that you could ever imagine. This would have to be a big secret, or you could be thrown out onto the streets.

Two sides warred it out in your mind, one ( _that also contained your demons_ ) claimed you were too innocent for such a strong man, that you would just lose him if you let him in any further. The other was the side you favored more, as it rebuked that you wanted him all to yourself, free from the eyes of anyone else. These thoughts both excited and scared you at the same time.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t think I do,” you retorted hopefully.

Your biggest fear was that he would be caught by patrols or the surveillance cameras infesting the expansive property, and all of this would be over. But if he was truly as stealthy as he claimed to be, maybe you should have a little more faith in him. It was merely ten p.m., and plenty dark out. Bucky surely knew what he was doing. You decided to egg him on to pay you such a visit.

“Want me to prove it, doll?” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, maybe I’d _definitely_ like that,” you sealed the deal.

“Forty minutes, then check your balcony,” he smiled.

“James Buchanan Barnes, are you really going to sneak into my room?” you asked in slight disbelief.

“Darling didn’t you listen? I said your balcony,” you could hear a _very big_ smirk in his voice now.

“Goodness gracious, you crazy man. You better be safe or I’ll be exceptionally mad at you,” you snapped your phone shut and sighed dramatically.

Currently curled up on your bed in a robe and towel wrapped around your hair, you figured he’d have to see you in this state sooner or later. Your ‘comfort mode’ couldn’t be hidden from him forever, if he was to be your lover.

It had been twenty minutes since you hung up.

All you had been doing was idling nervously and pacing.

You made your way to the bathroom and took the towel off your head, attempting to make your hair more presentable. Though you weren’t really going to try that hard tonight. You weighed yourself six times, upset at the resulting numbers.This would be a testament to Bucky’s true character, and if he would ultimately be the man you assumed ( _hoped)_ him to be. You moisturized like your life depended on it in the meantime. 

This was all a little reckless of you, being that this visit was entirely spur of the moment with no prior planning.

After lathering yourself in lotion under the robe, you glanced at the clock on your phone. 

_Shit, two minutes._

You finished up in the bathroom and made your way to the balcony door. Even Marianne couldn’t know about this.

Opening the door hesitantly, you stepped out into the cool night air. 

To your far left, a dark and masked figure sat in a patio chair with its legs crossed. Upon viewing this in your periphery you slightly jumped, then immediately realized it was just Bucky.

You silently ushered him inside, not trusting the outside to keep a secret.

Your room was incredibly isolated in comparison to the other living quarters of the occupied house. No one would be alerted by voices coming from your room.

Upon his entrance, Bucky took off his mask and set it on the long dresser at the end of your bed.

“Hey there,” he grinned at you as you came around to hug him fiercely.

He enveloped you in the hug, though it wasn’t as comfortable as the one before on your first date due to his strappy, hard attire. You figured it was meant for battle, not for sneaking into some girls room. You found amusement in this and hugged him tighter.

His hands consistently stayed in ‘respectful’ zones of your body, never too grabby or too stiff. They were just right. This time, his metal arm held your head against his chest, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. You smiled.

Pulling away to look up at him, “I missed you, Bucky, geez, and I was so worried about you the entire last thirty minutes.”

“I missed you too, doll, believe me, and I made it here in one piece didn’t I?” he smiled down at you.

“Ugh, c’mon,” you rolled your eyes and pulled away further to take his hand to lead him to the ‘living room’ area of your bedroom, where a large sofa and two armchairs sat. 

His moves were all highly calculated, but he walked a little too tensely.

“Honey are you okay? Do you need to change or anything?” you turned and looked up at him in concern, trying to study his face.

“Yeah, actually, do you mind if I go change in your bathroom? I mean, to strip down to the civilian wear,” he spoke a little nervously, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Of course, go ahead,” you reassured.

( _Though you really wouldn’t have minded seeing him strip.)_

He stepped into your bathroom and closed the door quietly. It didn’t take him long to get the extra layers off, and he emerged in a fitting grey tee and almost equally fitting black joggers. 

You blushed, Bucky could look good in anything, but his outfit really showed off his physique.

He joined you on the couch, taking your hand in both of his and kissing the top of it. You were beyond excited that you got to have him all to yourself with no societal or paternal restraints. Following your instincts, you scooted closer and laid your head on his shoulder. His breathing was a little more relaxed now, easing your mind, and you took a moment to be especially grateful for everything you have. This turned out to be a more fantastic night than you could've hoped.

“I can’t believe you bypassed all of the security and made it into my room. You’re crazy,” you sighed in disbelief, and a little bit of shock that he was actually here and _in your room_.

“I’m not crazy, I really wanted to see your beautiful face tonight,” he exhaled, starting to trace circles on your thigh.

Frowning slightly, you remarked, “It’s not really all that _beautiful_ tonight though, and for that I apologize.”

“Doll, what are you talking about? You’re by far the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he shifted to make eye contact. Bucky sat with his legs crossed facing you, and took your face in his two hands softly. He stared contently at you, like nothing could’ve made him happier.

In this moment you felt like you were what he was saying, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. 

Tears welled in your eyes, and you placed both of your hands over his. Bucky’s hands were far larger and his flesh hand in particular was far more jaded and rough than your own.

When it came to your feelings about Bucky, they were almost indescribable. Perhaps there weren’t any real reasons why you felt as close as you did with him, but something in you profoundly stirred when he was around. In your heart of hearts, the connection you felt with Bucky was beyond anything you had experienced in your entire lifetime. 

You saw him for the kind, stoic, sweetheart of a man he was, even though there was this jet-black darkness that resided within him too. He would open up to you one day. But you knew the last thing he’d ever want to do is scare you. This was a man you wanted to learn and cherish.

Bucky’s eyes widened when he saw your tears, and immediately he reached to pull you closer to him. Ultimately, he laid back on the couch and guided you to lay upon his chest. Completely forgetting about crying of any sort, you started to blush furiously. This was the closest you had ever been with a man. 

He held you close with his human hand on your back, and played with your hair with the other, calming you down from your conflicted, flustered state.

You both stayed like this without taking any account of how much time had passed.

During said time, you had scooted up to bury your face in the crook of his neck. In such a place, you forgot about the world, because all that mattered was the man holding you for the time being. 

Bucky was wholeheartedly content. You were so precious to him. The fact that you worried so much about being beautiful for him was pointless, but he found it endearing nonetheless. All he wanted to do was protect you from the evils of the world. The evils he had fought for the majority of his life. All of the darkness that he had witnessed had slowly seeped into him, his actions only speeding up the process.

The beautiful young woman in his arms seemed to combat this dark force, without even knowing it. Her compassion and inherent sunshine fought his demons, not even being aware of doing so. And here she was, pressed against his body.

Bucky breathed in the scent of your hair for the millionth time since you perched your chin on his shoulder to fit your body slightly better to his. He decided he’d never get tired of it. Even if it was far too floral for him.

“Bucky,” you said quietly, almost like a request.

“Yea, love?” he replied, equally as quiet.

You pressed your cheek to the side of his neck, “Do you like me?”

He started to chuckle, “That’s a really silly question.”

Starting to feel discouraged, you propped yourself on his chest to look at him, “ What do you mean silly…?”

Again, Bucky brought his two hands to cup your face sweetly, “Doll, I _more_ than like you. I guess I need to start making that a little clearer, huh? And you worry too much.”

Smiling at him through his hands, you wanted to show him an entire world of affection. Your consistent phone calls had left you longing for these exact moments. You hadn’t seen each other in person since your first date a week and a half ago. A small part of you worried that you were going too fast and that you were going to lose him. The bigger part knew that following your intuition was the right way to go.

“Bucky, I more than like you too,” you responded honestly, but not two seconds later you fell victim to a huge yawn.

“Not gonna lie, that was really cute. But let’s get you to bed love.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed, because then that means you have to leave,” you replied, dejected.

“How about I leave after you fall asleep then?” he brushed your hair away from your cheeks.

“I suppose that sounds a little better, though I wish you didn’t have to leave at all.”

“If things go according to how I hope, one day we won’t be so far apart,” he spoke softly.

“Really?” you matched his tone, “I’d love that.”

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” he whispered before sitting you both up. Bucky lightly grabbed under your knees to swing you around and pick you up bridal style. You gasped slightly, not expecting the quick motion. He proceeded to carry you over to your bed and lay you down on one side. You watched with mild curiosity as he went around to the other and pulled back the comforter on top. It was a little cold in the room, so the one thick layer would likely do you justice.

Bucky came back around to you to scoop you up yet again, and brought you to the side he had just prepared. Setting you down lightly again, he brought the comforter up to tuck you in.

Finally, he made his way over to the couch again and made a move to lay himself down and get comfortable.

“Bucky?” you called from your bed.

“Yeah, baby?”

“You don’t have to stay on the couch…” you inferred timidly.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured you. The last thing he would ever want to do is take liberties and make you uncomfortable. Bucky wouldn’t do anything unless you were completely okay with it.

“I think I’d be more comfortable if you were closer.” It was a little shocking to you how bold you were being, but in reality it wasn’t actually being that bold.

“Where do you want me?” 

“Uhm…well. Do you want to lay next to me?” now you were really nervous. This was what you _really_ wanted.

“Of course I do. Now do _you_ want me to lay next to you?” Bucky had to make sure.

“Yeah,” you responded meekly, turning over to the farther side that Bucky would soon inhabit. You were really sleepy. Neither of you knew what time it was, but it was definitely past bedtime. Making his way over, he turned off all touch lamps except for the one on his side.

Bucky lifted the comforter and scooted in beside you. The bed lightly dipped under the added weight as he inched closer. This was a _huge_ first for you. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to tell him this, but you feared appearing ‘lame’ or ‘boring’.

Bucky laid facing you, his left metal hand in front of him, outstretched to you. You covered it with your own, and squeezed lightly.

“Promise you’ll still like me in the morning?” you whispered, inquiring. You felt so vulnerable in these moments, having let this man into your bed. This was unprecedented. No one had ever had this privilege. It was a little harrowing. 

“I promise, darling. Goodnight.”

And with that, he leaned over to kiss your forehead. Bucky was so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath softly hit your exposed skin. 

You drifted slowly into sleep, choosing not to worry about waking up without him. 

Bucky waited for an hour and a half, fighting sleep himself, until he was sure you were asleep. He had wanted nothing more than tostay there and awaken with you, but that just wasn’t in the cards at the moment.

Slowly pulling away from the bed, you started to shift around, which tricked Bucky into thinking you were still awake.

After freezing for a few seconds, he realized you were still asleep.

But there was another problem.

Your robe had come undone at some point, and now with how you were laying, there was an extremely risqué view of your bare chest peeking out.

Bucky fought the urge to keep looking, and quickly pulled the comforter over you again. He was also fighting the growing hardness in his pants. There was still a trip back to the compound he had awaiting him.

Mentally _and_ physically, you were a bombshell. He was a firm believer in respecting all of a woman’s boundaries, knowing that you would reveal all of yourself to him when you deemed the time right.

Thinking back to how sad you looked realizing he had to leave, Bucky found some of your stationary on your nightstand and wrote you a small note to wake up to in the morning. 

It was time to head out, unfortunately. 

He found the bathroom again and put back on all of his gear that he had come in with. 

Grabbing his mask from the table at the end of the bed, he looked at you again. It was hard to believe he just briefly shared a bed with the alluring woman he became enamored with at the senator’s ball. He didn’t know how the stars aligned for this to happen.

Bucky really didn’t want to leave. Walking around to your side of the bed, he bent down and kissed the side of your head. He smiled softly to himself. In this moment you were so defenseless, trusting him entirely while you slept so soundly. 

Bucky had not felt so strongly about a woman since his original era. 

Taking one final look at you, Bucky turned off the remaining lamp that had casted a faint glow over the room. 

He exited onto the balcony and disappeared into the early morning darkness.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been my favorite chapter to write so far! Thank you to everyone leaving sweet comments and all of the support :) Trying to get chapters out in a timely manner!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets her first taste of life outside of the Maraschino property :)

* * *

_My darling,_

_Thank you for letting me into your world._

_No other woman compares to you._

_All my love,_

_Bucky_

You couldn’t count how many times you had read that small note since the morning you found it. It might’ve sounded cliche, but he was all you could ever really think about. It hadn’t yet been a week since your night together. 

Whenever you were translating, sometimes you would accidentally write ‘ _Bucky’_ instead of the English word(s) you siphoned out of the French you read. 

Deciding you had to get your feelings out one way or another, your _writing heart_ took to what it did best.

The result was a three page letter. You stared down at the subject, realizing it might be a bit much. Giggling at how ridiculous it kind of was, you decorated the pages with carefully placed ink stamps.

Pulling out an adumbral wooden box from one of the bookshelves within your study, you turned to set it on your desk.

In this box, you had years and years worth of pressed flowers, home grown from the garden, safely guarded in between yellowed parchment.

From this container you gently sifted through to find what you had your mind on.

_Bougainvilleas._

You took the aged parchment they rested on carefully out of the box, paying special attention to making sure they didn’t float off accidentally.

The fragile, faded red flowers stuck to your fingers when you touched them, letting you slip them into the cream envelope. 

The final touch to your paper professed affection was your signature _(far-too-expensive-for-five-ounces)_ perfume. A light spritz was all it needed to get the point across.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling until you did. Figuring it would be best to give this gift in person, you pulled your cellphone out of the right pocket of your yoga pants to text him. Flipping it open, you clicked,

“ _hi cutie i have something for u”_

It was almost twenty minutes later when he responded,

_“hey babe whats thst”_

A genuine smile erupted on your face as you invited him over again, if he was free that night. The prospect of more light intimacy with Bucky lit up your world, far brighter than anything had before. 

Whenever Marianne would bring you mid-day sliced fruit, she would notice your constant lifted spirits. She had known it was because of Bucky since the first date between you two, and how dramatically you had changed. Marianne had even found herself starting to match your mood. It was infectious.

Your father hardly picked up on anything involving you unless it was negative, and/or affected his image. This was no different. Though surprisingly enough, he made no comment, even in passing, about your male interest. It was as if it was irreverent news from years ago, having no relevance in today’s happening’s. Even with his indifference, you were attentive as always in regards to your father. He had been unreasonably stressed as of late. You could see it in the tense way he walked.

( _Mostly pacing, nowadays.)_

This behavior raised concern in the back of your mind, even with your elevated aura. The head of the Maraschinos did _not_ show his heart on his sleeve, even at home. Something had rattled him. Maybe it was still going on. You couldn’t be sure due to his secretive nature. The last thing on Earth he would ever do is talk business or money with you. Your job, as the sole heir and daughter, was to get married to a man that could continue the family’s financial fortune, whether it was in the same business or not.

You chose to not stress yourself over your father’s business.

One way or another, it would resolve itself.

Back to the matter at hand, after texting Bucky that you were free that night and would enjoy his company, _if he was able_ , he responded rather quickly,

_“wanna go downtown 2nite”_

You froze.

How on earth would you be allowed out of the house like that?

You wouldn’t…

Unless Bucky had something in mind? Only way to know was to ask.

You clicked the buttons quickly, 

_“omg i want to but how tho”_

Starting to chew a hangnail, you thought rapidly. If he asked, it couldn’t just be a sick joke, trying to get your hopes up. 

Bucky wouldn’t do that.

Your cellphone vibrated once in your hand, flipping it open, it read, 

_“ill come get u at 9 dress casual n dark”_

Bucky was going to sneak you out. Caught in a war within your own mind, you thought of the possibilities, good and bad. 

_If_ you got caught, you couldn’t imagine what your father would do to you. Your mind quickly, yet accidentally, drifted back to the beatings in your pre-teens. It couldn’t be helped that you were a strong-willed little girl. Your father had never shown any patience with you. It was sink or swim in terms of expected behavior. Tolerance was nearly at zero. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have to be diligent of every reaction, motion, and choice you made. Being raised the way you were, there was no one on the outside to see the abuse. Mainly because you never left the mansion. You supposed there were worse places to be held. Nevertheless, your father only put bruises where they couldn’t be seen under clothes. You shuddered, bringing yourself back to the present. He couldn’t touch you anymore, but only because you were so calculated that mistakes were nearly impossible.

On a contrary and lighter mood, you were working on finding your freedom. Bucky made it feel like it was possible. Perhaps because of your newly lit internal fire, you had been eating a little more. Before, it was almost as if the cooks for the house only fed your father and the security detail. But now you would eat a little more than what was necessary to survive.

This was an opportunity to really see a small part of the world that you had only read about, without any supervision from your father or bodyguards. Just Bucky. 

It was rash. Possibly the most rash decision you had ever made in your lifetime thus far. 

You glanced out of the window, seeing the washed-out city skyline in broad day. You loved being on this side of the house for this reason. At night, the view glittered, often lulling you to sleep. 

You had to see it up-close, at night, with your own free will.

You responded,

_“ok cnt wait to see ur cute self”_

You exhaled sharply. _Shit._ You were really going to go through with this. It just made you think about how drab your life really has been. Being _essentially_ a princess trapped in a mansion shouldn’t have seemed as boring as it legitimately was. You hardly had any outside interactions, unless there was an event your attendance was required at. All of your social training growing up had been from _selected sources_ that were specifically meant for teaching, not real socializing or friendship. You never had other kids to play or talk with, only adults. Marianne was pretty much the only nurturing figure in your life.

Smiling wistfully at your feet, you figured you had turned out alright, despite the strange upbringing. 

From now on, you decided, you were going to live a _little_ more freely. You’d find your true self along the way.

The first step towards this was going downtown, with Bucky.

-

After spending the rest of the afternoon with your nose in a book holed up in your study, you checked your cell for the time. 

_8:16. Damnit._

You stood up and quickly made your way to your room to change and get ready. Though he said casual, you would still attempt to appear as attractive as you could. You started with light makeup, pondering what the hell casual meant in regards to your wardrobe. After finishing your facial appearance, you made your way into the closet. You opened drawers and looked at an assortment of joggers and sweatpants that you hadn’t touched in a while. Your loungewear collection was far overshadowed by the pajamas you owned. 

This would have to do. 

You picked out an outfit fitting Bucky’s guidelines and got dressed. 

The athletic look fit your small frame tightly, revealing just how thin you were. 

Slipping on your favorite pair of Yeezy’s, you turned to the balcony and jumped probably three inches in the air and squeaked.

Bucky was standing in the door, completely unannounced and silent. Upon seeing your fearful reaction, he moved towards you, “Oh god, doll, I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna interrupt you so suddenly. Guess I kinda did that, huh.” He pulled you into his chest, slowing your breathing and calming you down. This was your Bucky. The man you adored. Without a word, you pulled away to look at him.

His gaze was content, softly touching your face with his human hand. You nuzzled into his palm and kissed it.

Unbeknownst to you, this action had succeeded in slightly turning him on. Furthermore, he pictured you sucking his fingers, under him… begging… wanting mo-

His thoughts trailed, and before he knew it you noticed and worryingly grabbed his shoulder.

“Bucky what’s wrong?” you inquired, trying to read his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, sorry honey, I’m okay. I was just thinking about tonight,” he smiled back at you. Despite his attempt at explaining, you knew he was lying, but you dropped it. Bucky lightly shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking those thoughts about you for a long while. Not until you were comfortable with such matters. You seemed so innocent. He had figured your father for a zealous, protective type. There was no way you had done anything. Not that it mattered to Bucky, but he just had to take everything a little slower. To make sure you’re okay at every step.

“Honey I have something for you!” you nearly shouted, remembering the day’s work. You darted out of the room to retrieve it from your study. Bucky had no time to respond before you were back in the room, offering him a small cream envelope. 

“Oh, doll, this is precious. I love it. Can I wait until I’m back at the compound to read it? I want get the jump on tonight before it gets too late.”

You nodded and smiled in understanding, but subconsciously you really wanted him to open it and read into your heart. _But,_ he was right _,_ the night hadn’t even started yet.

“Bucky I trust you, but… How are you actually going to take me downtown?”

He chuckled, “Babe, I hope you’re okay with a little bit of running.”

“You’re not telling me we’re RUNNING there!?” you nearly exclaimed.

“Geez, no, honey. I’m just gonna show you how to escape your own property. That involves a little bit of cardio. But after that, I have Tony’s newest Ferrari,” he grinned down at you, mischievously. 

You started to laugh, hugging him tightly. 

Naively, you wanted to give this man everything. Your heart was a stranger to pain. It was something you could only feel through books. No man had ever been this close to even have the opportunity to hurt you. Your adoration was fresh and unprecedented. The thought of rejection and heartbreak was far away in these moments. 

As Bucky held your small frame in his arms, he kissed the top of your head and pondered for a moment. Before HYDRA, women generally weren’t afraid of Bucky, and he received an abundance of female attention in uniform. Afterwards is a different story. He was accustomed to being immediately feared, by women and men alike. Not everyone looks kindly upon a metal arm and accepts it. Bucky’s own self image comes into play as well. After committing countless atrocities under brainwash, how could he ever forgive himself? Bucky doubted he would ever deserve a slice of happiness. 

Viewing himself as a monster, a weapon that couldn’t be controlled, it was a wonder you hugged him so tightly, talked to him for hours on the phone in your shared free time, even wrote him a _love_ letter _…_

You couldn’t see anything involving Bucky as bad. You were aware of something in him. Something separate from him. A darkness. 

But in your naivety, it didn’t matter what he had done, because you could never imagine it happening with you. 

You accepted your view of him as this unbelievably powerful man that deserved your affection. 

Plain and simple.

He whispered to you about needing to go over the plan, and you nodded, letting him explain.

-

All in all, it was a wonder that your house hadn’t been broken into already. Bucky had made it sound so easy to bypass all of the security measures in place. 

You followed his lead on everything without issue, secretly empowering you, as this was the first thing you had ever done behind your father’s back in your entire life.

The cherry red Ferrari awaited you up ahead, as Bucky boosted you over the iron fence to the other side.

Exhilarated, you couldn’t help yourself from running into Bucky’s arms as soon as he made it over, and you realized you had succeeded in escaping.

The world could’ve been yours in this moment and it wouldn’t have mattered. You had done something entirely for you.

“Bucky we did it!” you nearly screamed in joy.

He laughed and agreed, leading you to the car.

The Ferrari was a wonderful change from only riding in limousines your whole life, filled withsecurity. Bucky was a great driver and handled the car well, driving extra fast intermittently to spark your reactions.

Starting to come into the city, you couldn’t stop smiling as the lights entranced you. The storefronts, restaurants, bars, and lounges all peaking your interest. A common sight for all city-goers, more than fascinating to you.

Bucky loved seeing you so excited. It was like medication to him for the pit in his heart. There you were, filling it with your belief that the world was good. That _he_ was good. You trusted him blindly from the moment you allowed him into your life. He hadn’t met anyone like that before.

Bucky had something planned for you tonight that he hadn’t told you about.

You turned to look at him when he pulled into a parking garage. 

“Oh Bucky I’m speechless, the city is so beautiful,” you breathed, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Baby, just wait,” he grinned back at you, taking your hand in his and squeezing lightly. 

You both walked briskly down the avenue, your hand around Bucky’s forearm.

He knew where you were going, even if you didn’t. You were content regardless. There was a chill in the air that led to you being swallowed in Bucky’s favorite leather jacket.

You felt bad, saying that you didn’t want him to be cold or _get_ a cold. He simply chuckled and assured you it was only a few blocks more.

When you reached your destination, Bucky led you in.

You gasped.

The lounge was a cool art deco style with an invasion of wild botanicals growing under the glass ceiling. Easy lighting filled the tall room with warmth.

The hostess politely smiled as you both approached.

“Reservation for two under Barnes, please,” Bucky said cooly.

She nodded after flipping quickly through her book. 

“This way.”

Your mouth partially stayed open in wonder as you looked around more, walking through.

Bucky had reserved a quiet booth, in the back of the place.

In a sheen, black, marble cylinder, there was a bottle of what looked like champagne. It resided on ice and was accompanied by two glasses.

You slid into the plush booth, Bucky getting in on the other side. A waitress had immediately replaced the hostess, letting you know about the specials for the night and leaving menus.

You squealed quietly ( _respecting the space you were in_ ), and without thinking, you scooted incredibly close to Bucky and with a hand, brought his cheek in for a small kiss.

His body tensed for a split second, then after realizing what had happened, his heart rate sped up quickly. Adjusting himself to appear entirely casual after your blatant show of affection, Bucky was now sweating.

You noticed his change, smile slowly dropping.

“Oh I’m so sorry Bucky. I shouldn’t have done that without asking,” you quickly stuttered, embarrassed.

“No, no doll you didn’t do anything wrong. Just caught me by surprise is all. Feel free to do that whenever you want though,” he chuckled, guiding your face to look at him.

“I’m sorry anyways. I always mean to respect your space,” you covered the hand on your cheek with your own, “This place is so marvelous, how ever did you discover it?”

“Steve, Sam and I like to find new places around the city and try expensive whiskey. I thought you’d like this spot,” he winked at you, then picked up a menu.

“I love it so much,” you admitted honestly.

The bottle on ice caught your eye.

“Bucky, can we open that bottle?”

“Of course we can, I got us Dom Perignon. Should’ve asked you earlier what your favorite is,” he grinned, grabbing and opening it.

He poured you both a half glass each. 

You didn’t want to admit to him that you never drank, besides an exception at social events. Only one though, and you hardly ever finished it.

The gin and tonic that Bucky had bought for you at the senator’s ball was left three-quarters full.

You and Bucky were intertwined in passionate conversation over two whole glasses, and by the time your food arrived, you could feel it in your head, swimming. 

Plates of small appetizers were shared, filling you up alongside the champagne. You were a tipsy, happy girl in these moments. 

You weren’t paying any mind to the anxiety that could’ve overwhelmed you, had you worried about eating in front of him and appearing unsightly. Something about Bucky reassured you that you could live without concern when it came to him. Not even calories could make you shy away.

Feeling the low heat of the alcohol under your skin, you began to loosen in your comfort, touching Bucky more than you were honestly aware.

_He_ noticed, for sure. Trying his absolute hardest to continue the night’s pleasant conversation and _not_ grab your face and kiss the fuck out of you, he took another sip of his fourth drink, unaffected by the alcohol due to his high metabolism. Being a super soldier took some of the pleasures out of life. Getting drunk was an _expensive chore_ for he and Steve.

_You,_ in comparison, were on track to getting thoroughly wasted. Not even really meaning to. Three glasses hit your small frame with a warm rush. The fourth delivering you to a never before seen state.

Had you told Bucky you’d never had this much alcohol, he _probably_ wouldn’t have let you have so much, much rather preferring to introduce you to substance in a safer environment.

The filter you normally had was slipping, letting your true thoughts out, for better or worse. Bucky thought it was entirely too cute, the way you caught yourself after saying something mildly controversial. You giggled and playfully covered your mouth after claiming your father was a, “big jerk,” that you, “could live without.” 

He somewhat preferred the girl without reservations, and hoped one day you would be able to share your opinions freely and without worry.

With the fifth glass finished, you sighed and laid your head sleepily against Bucky’s shoulder, cheeks faintly flushed.

“How you feeling babe?”

“I’m absolutely wonderful, lover,” you moved even closer to Bucky, wrapping your arms around his, hugging it close and either not caring or not knowing that you had moved his hand essentially between your thighs. Bucky’s heart fluttered at the contact, thankful that you were in pants and not a dress.

At this point it was almost twelve.

“I might need to get you home, darling.”

“Yeah… I suppose,” you breathed, leaning up to kiss his cheek again, “Can it be like the previous time you visited?”

“How so, doll?”

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

“Of course I can.”

He kept you upright the entire way back to the parked Ferrari. 

Bucky gave death glares to a group of men smoking near the entrance to the parking garage as they started to point at you, talking quietly amongst themselves and whistling. _The balls of these fuckers,_ Bucky thought. He only let them off because he cared more about getting you home at that point than anything else. Above all, he was grateful he could be there to protect you.

The drive was easy, you giggled at Bucky’s choice of music, finding it weirdly hot that he still listened to forties tunes on CDs. His powerful, classy allure only perpetuated the pool of heat in your core.

Getting you across the property wasn’t the hard part, but getting you _up_ to your balcony proved to be the real challenge. Nevertheless, it wasn’t impossible, you just had five glasses of champagne working against you. Luckily, Bucky had finished the second bottle before you could.

After getting you into your room, you quickly dashed into the restroom to relieve yourself, leaving Bucky with only context clues. You had already gone three times at the lounge.

Coming out, you made a beeline to your closet to change into pajamas, your heart set on being as comfortable as possible. Bucky had been idling, not knowing what you had wanted him to do in this time within your space. He grew slightly flustered when you started to change without closing the closet door, and averted his gaze. As much as he really wanted to see you without anything on, now wasn’t the time. 

You emerged yet again, only to run into Bucky’s arms. He held you, feeling you smile against his chest. 

“I got ready for bed, will you join me?” your voice was muffled into his chest.

“Of course, let me get my boots off,” he rubbed your lower back slowly.

You pulled away and padded over to your bed, pulling back the covers and crawling in. 

After making himself more comfortable, Bucky did in fact join you. 

Still under the influence, you desired to act on sober thoughts. 

Cheeks flushed with a huge smile, you propped yourself up to look down at him. Bucky smiled back you, admiring the fact that you had _definitely_ enjoyed the night out. 

Overwhelmed by the moment, and how _absolutely adorable_ Bucky looked with a smile, you succumbed to your affections. 

Leaning down towards him, you took a greater chance than escaping your personal prison.

Not entirely knowing what you were doing, you kissed Bucky with hesitant fervor. 

Bucky, beyond surprised at your bold action, kissed you back and guided you gently, noticing your ineptitude.

Your hands soon tangling in his hair, he gently moved you up to sit and straddle his lap. Not once leaving each other’s lips, you felt overjoyed to be able to show him how you felt successfully. It would have made you entirely too nervous to act had you been sober. Liquid courage had prevailed, and allowed you to express in action what you had wanted to say to him many times over your countless phone calls. 

Breaking away, you looked breathlessly in each other’s eyes, savoring the moment.

“I like kissing you,” you breathed quietly, not quite being able to articulate any other thoughts at the moment.

“I like kissing you, more,” Bucky’s baritone voice responded.

“Bucky, I wish you could stay forever.”

“Me too, hun,” he agreed, enveloping you in his arms and hugging you close. The past seven minutes had wholeheartedly caught him off guard, and he loved it. “You can kiss me whenever you feel like it.”

“That makes me super happy,” you nestled your face in-between his neck and shoulder, content to breathe him in and never forget his comforting, warm, and overall masculine scent.

“That’s my goal, baby girl.”

Bucky took firm hold of you and dropped himself back down onto the bed with you on top of him, startling you into giggles.

Nothing sounded better to him than your laughter. 

In these moments, he felt renewed, as if the man he knew and lived with that committed countless violent crimes that had subsequently plagued him with unbridled darkness, had never existed.

Going back to the compound without you, the man seemed to catch up with him during the car ride. No vehicle was fast enough to get away, to outrun him. 

Bucky was a man tired of running.

You were nothing short of a saving grace.

Fighting sleep, you struggled to keep your eyes open while Bucky tucked your hair behind your ear and out of your face. The metal of his hand was cool against your flushed face. You were now snuggled next to his side, hugging his flesh arm to your chest. 

Bucky felt your heartbeat slow into slumber. 

“Goodnight, doll.”

He left you with a kiss on the forehead, and your letter stored safely in his coat’s inner pocket.

Comforted by the fact he had something of yours to keep close when he wasn’t with you, Bucky was somewhat excited to get home and read what you had written to him. 

The only misfortune that would strike in the early morning was a vibranium fist, against four skulls of a security detail that, unfortunately, did not stick to routine.

In Bucky’s favor, there were no alerts sent out once contact was made, leaving the Maraschino residence in relative peace until dawn, when they would be discovered.

* * *


End file.
